Jesus said, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions”, before proceeding to tell the Parable of the Rich Fool, in which the man builds ever bigger barns to store his grain, before dying in the night without having used any of it.
Many people have observed that, while money may not buy happiness, a lack of it certainly brings misery. I think the angst some of us feel about wealth and money, particularly in Western countries, can lead us to bring a certain amount of baggage with us when we hear Jesus’ stories that have to do with riches. When Jesus was alive, although money was useful, a person could also manage without it. It’s important to remember that in modern Western culture, money stands for food, clean water, shelter, healthcare and other necessities. A certain amount of money is vital for life. But what Jesus is talking about here is the pointlessness of hoarding wealth, of trying to prepare when you cannot know what is coming.
Sometimes when we think about this parable, I feel a ‘yes but’ rising in me. “Yes, but Jesus, are you saying we shouldn’t be prudent, that we shouldn’t make good use of what we have, that we shouldn’t ensure our provisions last through barren times? Are you saying we shouldn’t take responsibility for ourselves?” Only a few weeks ago we talked about Joseph, who saved Egypt and the surrounding lands by the building of barns and prudent saving of food – and that was all through God’s direction!
But Joseph had enough to meet the needs of the people. Once the famine was over, the saved food had been eaten. And Joseph shared. He was doing it for everybody, not just himself; not even just Egypt, in the end. In this parable, the rich man has more grain than one person can use and keeps it for himself. He has so much of it that he never gets the use of it, and nor do any of the people he could have shared with. This goes beyond mere prudence. And the Jews of Jesus’ time would have known the scriptures that instructed farmers to leave their excess for the poor to eat, that expressly tell those who have plenty that they should share it with those who are without. (And, by the way, there’s no question of people who do not deserve to be shared with. You share with those who are needy because of what *you* are like, not because of what they are like, or how deserving or not they may be.)
So the problem with the rich man in the parable is not that he’s rich, but that he chooses to hold onto his wealth in a way that benefits neither him nor anyone else. Better, says Jesus, to use your time and effort in more worthwhile things, and trust that God will keep providing for you year on year. Our future is in God’s hands, regardless of what we do or don’t do. The Harvest Festival is for giving thanks to God, who has faithfully provided for us once again. It’s an acknowledgement that we have received not according to what we deserve, but purely out of God’s goodness. As the character of Death says, in Terry Pratchett’s book ‘Reaper Man’, “OH LORD, WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR BUT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?”
“Do not be afraid, little flock,” said Jesus, “for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
Jesus exhorts us to share what we have with each other and to trust in God; to create the Kingdom by taking care of one another, and thus also taking care of ourselves. He encourages us to focus not on what we have – like King John sitting in his tower counting out his coins (“Taxes! Taxes! Mwaha!”) – but instead on the world we seek to bring into being.
This week saw the Autumn Equinox, also known as Mabon or Alban Elfed. It is the point of balance, when the light and the dark are momentarily equal, before we step through the gateway of the year and head towards the long dark of winter.
The feast of Michaelmas, or St Michael and All Angels, on the 29th September, is placed at this time of year for a reason. In some Christian traditions, it was Michael the Archangel who led the Heavenly Host against Lucifer’s uprising, and cast down the Prince of Darkness. This is why you see pictures of St Michael with his foot on a dragon and holding a flaming sword. He is a Prince of Light, who looks at darkness and rides out to meet it. So it’s fitting that he stands within the gateway of year, as darkness begins to rise. And he faces into the darkness, unafraid, reminding us that the light has overcome the darkness and will do so again. And he holds up his flaming sword to light the way. ‘Yea, though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I shall fear no evil.’
Michaelmas also marked the beginning of the agricultural year, and was a time of reckoning the accounts, as well as celebrating the Harvest that had successfully been brought in at the end of the previous year. So it’s a time for taking stock of what has been, for giving thanks for the good and throwing out the bad. A time to accept sunk losses. A time to reset our course to manage any hardship to come. A time to look around and see whose harvest was wanting, to ensure that they will be OK. And a time to envision the year ahead. What will we create?
As well as the Harvest of the Land and Sea, we also take a moment to think about the Harvest of the Soul. So far, 2020 has been momentous indeed, and I don’t think it’s ready to settle down yet. I wonder what has happened this year that you are thankful for? I wonder what this year has taught you to set aside, to throw away? I wonder what values we would like to focus on as we shake the dust off our feet and step through the gateway into the coming dark? What we sow now will be next year’s harvest.
Let’s pray.
God of all mercy and goodness,
We give you thanks for the lessons of this year;
for the kindness and grace welling up in our communities,
for the revelations of truth, however bitter or painful,
for the fight for justice, the outcry of your children,
the knowledge gained, the humility grown, the determination developing.
We gaze into darkness, calling on St Michael and his flaming sword of truth,
knowing that the infant Christ will be born in the darkest hour.
With the heavenly host, we unfurl the banners of justice, peace, joy and grace, and ask that you will lead us in the way of righteousness for the year that is to come.
In Jesus’ name we pray.
Amen.
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